


Die another Day

by Oshusta



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Assassination Attempt(s), Bucky is a little shit, Detective! Bucky, Detective! Tony, Double-dealing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Evil Obadiah, F/M, Fake Character Death, False Accusations, False Identity, Former soldier! Bucky, Getting Together, Humour, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Light Angst, M/M, Mechanic Tony Stark, Misunderstandings, Self-Sacrificing Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, so is Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15729579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshusta/pseuds/Oshusta
Summary: When Tony decides to take a chance to fake his death, he believes its a start of a new life where he can make his own choices. But the new profession he’s chasing finds him face to face with the person he believed arranged his “death” - James Barnes. They make a deal, and agree on getting revenge on the people responsible for trying to frame and kill Tony. Along the way Tony realises that even if he can’t choose his own fate he must take responsibility for it.





	Die another Day

**Author's Note:**

> From @writing.prompt.s prompt:
> 
> You are a reclusive billionaire who has recently faked your own death in response to an assassination attempt and used your second chance at life to fulfil your lifelong dream of becoming a private detective. However, you find yourself in an awkward situation when you are hired to investigate the circumstances of your own demise – and your employer is the one that tried to kill you in the first place…
> 
>  
> 
> So I sort of twisted the prompt fill, but when I saw reclusive billionaire, all I could think of was Tony.  
> It was originally going to be one chapter, but two chapters works too!  
> I hope you enjoy because I had lots of fun writing this, and my ideas were endless :)

Tony Stark hadn’t wanted to inherit his father’s weapons company…but inevitably the responsibility had fallen into his own hands. He may have pushed the organisation to new reaches and becoming blindingly richer, but he hated every minute of it. So, when there’d been evidence of fraud from Obadiah Stane – Tony’s supposed god father – Tony used it as an excuse to start closing shop.

He’d made enemies as an arms dealer, more so when he’d stopped selling weapons, and many people were just _itching_ to kill him.

The day came when JARVIS’s notification of another person plotting his demise in an assassination attempt was a god send, and Tony turned the tables.

He was sick of the life he was living – he’d hit a brick wall in terms of progression. Without his consent, the company had become Tony’s life, and now that it was closing, he had nowhere to go.

But a chance to start fresh? That wasn’t something he could be offered every day, and Tony didn’t look at the opportunity lightly.

Weeks passed without injury.

Tony attended his galas and fundraising balls as celebration of the success of his company. He claimed he would happily retire a young and healthy man. The public was gleeful and the press lapped up the attention from all the stories they wrote.

But then disaster struck; on the way to one of the last events he would be attending as Stark Industries’ CEO, Tony’s sports car was targeted.

The explosion obliterated the car, and destroying any remains of the body.

With the explosion came the end of Tony Stark’s reign of Stark Industries.

-*-

Not days later, Hank Phillipe Georges crossed the border out of Malibu with his bots’ in the back of the van he’d rented under his new name.

He’d invested the time, effort and money to create an intricate and fool-proof backstory for his new identity.

The gist of it was that’d he gone through high-school at the regular age and then graduated to study criminology and become a cadet in the FBI. When he graduated from the cadets, he became involved in detective work.

Of course, Tony knew the stupidity of diving head-first into a profession he knew near to nothing about, so he’d done his research over the time he’d invented the guise. They didn’t call him a genius for no reason.

He was headed for lower Manhattan. It had been home a while ago, but he hadn’t been there for years. Not after the death of both his parents.

Maybe with the new-leaf he could start to heal properly, too. He hadn’t had a proper chance to breathe since the funeral.

Tony felt a slight sense of guilt for leaving his best friend Rhodey behind, but once the media fuss was over – give or take a few months – he’d show signs he was alive. Tony had a hunch that Rhodey had already know what he was up to anyway.

Also, he should be forgiving – Tony had entrusted all his inheritable belongings to him. That included his Malibu mansion. He’d also passed over full ownership of SI to his personal assistant Pepper Potts, so she could oversee its end.

Tony hadn’t had a chance to _live_ for so long. This would be an adventure for him.

-*-

The apartment he decided to rent was decent enough for Tony without being suspicious. Detectives weren’t known for being well-paid, so owning an expensive penthouse suite? It wouldn’t go in Tony’s favour for the long run.

However, the neighbours might’ve found the guy who’d just moved in pulling a luggage trolley with a white sheet over it highly suspicious. Tony couldn’t say Dum-E and U were all too impressed with it either.

He’d managed it, was what Tony was proud of.

After settling into his furnished apartment with the bots and the few belongings he’d brought, Tony began searching online for options.

He wasn’t with the FBI or CIA, so he couldn’t just go up to the police and demand a case. But there were businesses that investigated crimes and were searching for workers. A few caught his interest, so he sent an email and then considered other things that could become a hobby.

He’d never been interested in sports, or even very good at it, so that was out of the picture. But perhaps he could work in a garage in his spare time to “earn money from the side”.

 _Covers_ , Tony reminded himself, _covers are good_. It would give him an excuse to get his hands dirty on mechanical bits without arousing attention.

-*-

The next morning, he rocked up at an inconspicuous garage and upon showing his ability to fix a car, he was hired. On the spot.

Huh, Tony like being on this end of society. Nobody stuffed around with unnecessary paperwork. It was all very straightforward.

When the owner of the garage kicked him out for the day, well past closing hours, Tony arrived home to a full inbox.

“Huh,” Tony commented, “So they want a piece of Hank.”

-*-

In the end, Tony’s option was easy. Everyone was hungry to catch the killer of famed billionaire Tony Stark, and they said so clearly in their offers.

It was flattering at first, until Tony realised it was all for money. The more famous the victim, the more publicity it would get, which meant more money. Simple, really.

Just not for Tony.

Tony narrowed it down to the person who had mentioned him the least in their email: a small business dubbed “Investigations NYC”. At the end of the brief introduction, the mailer put their name – James.

A brief background check confirmed the business was legit. Nowhere did it say the employers full name, though.

To hell with it, Tony’s interest was piqued.

-*-

The next day found Tony standing in front of a small apartment building. He pressed the buzzer and a few moments later the door opened.

Tony went up the stairs, since there was no elevator, and stopped at the door said to be his new employer’s.

“Got any better ideas?” he asked himself, upon hesitating, then knocked on the hard wood.

The door opened immediately and Tony almost staggered away. His eyes bugged out of his head.

Was that… _James Barnes_?

The _James Barnes_ that had orchestrated the attack on his sports car?

The _James Barnes_ who had ordered someone to _kill him_?

Apparently, it was, because the man standing in the doorway, who matched up to the profile of the man who had organised a hit against him that JARVIS had told Tony about, frowned and cocked his head.

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, James Barnes’ eyes widened in horror.

Before Tony could move, Barnes’ grabbed him by the jacket and dragged him into his apartment. Then he slammed Tony against the closed door. Before Tony could think to cry out, Barnes’ slapped a hand over his mouth.

“How are you still alive?” Barnes’ snarled, spittle flying out of his mouth and onto Tony’s face.

Tony glared up at Barnes’ with as much venom as he could muster. It was all he could do, pinned against the door with a hand over his mouth.

“You were supposed to die in the explosion,” Barnes’ continued, with his gruff voice, his brows drawn in an intense glower, “How did you manage- “

Barnes’ interrupted himself with a curse as Tony dug his teeth into his hand and the offending limb fell away. Tony used the distraction to slip out from underneath Barnes’ and away from the door. Tony’s hand found a lamp and he picked it up, wielding it defensively as Barnes’ turned around to face him again.

Tony was fully expecting another assault, and he was even prepared for it – but Barnes merely slumped in defeat, hanging his head…

And dropping his guard.

That could be Tony’s chance to escape!

He moved to rush forward…then hesitated.

He wanted to get the hell out of there, sure, but Barnes was still standing between him and the door, and Tony wasn’t sure if the surrendering appeal was just an act.

The guy had a few inches on him, and more muscle too – and who knew what kind of fighting ability he had. The files JARVIS had on him claimed he had military background, but an injury had caused him to retire.

“You can put down the lamp, dumbass,” Barnes said, giving Tony a narrow-eyed look, “I’m done.”

“You’re done? The hell is that supposed to mean?” Tony demanded, shaking the hand wielding the lamp accusingly. “Go to all the effort to blow up my car, and then you find out I’m still alive and you’re just _done_?”

Barnes’ sighed. “If it makes it any better, I regret it.”

“Oh yeah, that helps me sleep at night,” Tony retorted drily.

“Well, you wanna know what keeps me up at night?” Barnes’ bit out, “The memory of your weapon nearly blowing my arm off!”

Tony blanched. _His_ weapon?

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, clenching his fist around the damn lamp.

“Figured you would’ve known,” Barnes said, expression turning sour. “My convoy was attacked, and the terrorists were using your weapons.”

Tony’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “And you were injured – badly?

Barnes bared his teeth in a painful smile. “Still in physiotherapy two years later. And I have a therapist too.”

“Christ,” Tony swore. He shook his head shamefully, deciding to ditch the lamp. He couldn’t hurt this man now, not after he’d heard what had happened to him because of Tony’s carelessness – even if Barnes had attempted to assassinate him.

Tony looked back up at Barnes. “So, you thought you’d take that matter into your own hands and just off me?”

Barnes expression darkened, but he shook his head. “I wasn’t the only one. A few other fellas wanted at you.”

“And you brought them all under your wing to kill me,” Tony commented bitterly, his eyes narrowed.

“ _Your_ weapons hurt many innocent people,” Barnes’ snarled, “I lost my best friend because of you!”

Tony froze, his hurt thudding painfully. “He died?”

Barnes hung his head. “No…he didn’t want to be involved.”

Tony let him trail off without further provocation on the matter. “What happened with these other men who wanted me dead?”

Barnes’ eyes lifted after a moment, settling heavily on Tony. “ _They_ planned everything. The timing, the explosion...I thought they only involved me for my own satisfaction, but…they left me with the clean-up.”

“Just in case they would caught,” Tony realised. “That would’ve pinned the blame on you.” That explained why Tony only found evidence of Barnes and none of the other men, even though he knew there had been more a part of it.

 “No kidding,” Barnes muttered. “Luckily that didn’t happen. But the burden of it…” he trailed off again with a sigh.

Tony rolled his eyes. “That must’ve been terrible for you,” he said sarcastically. “You know, my name might’ve been on that missile, but I haven’t been double dealing, Barnes.”

“What?” Barnes shot him a sharp look.

“My business is strictly above table,” Tony clarified, stubbornly.

“So, you’re playing the oblivious fool?” Barnes asked disbelievingly. He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter – either way, it’s still partially your fault.”

“Yeah, it is,” Tony admitted. He could see the surprise on Barnes face at his quick submission. “That make you feel better?”

“No,” Barnes admitted quietly, hunching his shoulders.

Tony gazed at him in defeat. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Here was someone involved in the attempt to kill him, but also a victim of Tony’s irresponsibility from his former life. He was at cross-roads.

Maybe…just maybe…if Tony offered him some sort of absolution they can find some sort of redemption together. He didn’t want things to go south just as he’d restarted his life.

But he had to make sure of one thing first;

“You’re not going to try and kill me again, right?”

Barnes shot him a dirty look. “Don’t think so low of me, rich boy.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t tried the first time,” Tony retorted.

Barnes looked like he was about to retaliate but then thought better of it, and shook his head. “I’m not gonna kill you again.”

“Good – then I’ll work for you for free,” Tony said easily, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms over his chest casually.

Barnes stared at him blankly. “What?”

“The job offer,” Tony said slowly, as if Barnes was dull, “You know, the reason I came here in the first place?”

“What makes you think I still wanna hire you?” Barnes demanded, “You pretended you were dead.”

“Nobody else will work no-pay for you.” Tony shrugged. “Besides, don’t you want revenge?”

“Yeah, but I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you – and that’s not far these days,” he added with a bitter glare.

Christ, this was going around in circles. Tony needed to cut to the chase if he was going to get where he wanted.

“Look, I want to find the bastard that was selling my weapons under my nose – and you want revenge. At least, you wanted it bad enough to kill the wrong guy for it…” Tony trailed off to drive his point home. Barnes looked away uncomfortably.

Tony sighed. “But you needed another employee, and here I am, ready to work for free, so…? What do you say?” Tony held his hand out invitingly.

 “Fine,” Barnes bit out, grabbing Tony’s hand and shaking it one before dropping it like the touch burned. “But I have conditions.”

Never let anyone say that Tony Stark wasn’t a business-man. He may have hated it, but you don’t spend ten years as CEO and learn nothing – especially as a genius.

“Name ‘em,” Tony obliged.

Barnes hesitated, then gave Tony a wicked smile.

-*-

If Tony knew that one of Barnes’ conditions was to test him by being his slave, he would’ve bailed out. But as it so were, he was stuck in his new profession as a detective running around as Barnes’ lackey.

As someone who’d grown up feeding on the silver-spoon, it was by no end, frustrating. And Barnes could tell.

“Having trouble there, princess?” Barnes quipped. Tony shuffled around with the grocery bags from their trip to the market and glared at him.

“I happen to have work this afternoon, so you better make these chores snappy,” Tony bit out.

“Where do you work – a nail salon?” Barnes scoffed.

Tony gave him a dry look. “I work in a garage.”

The shit-eating grin fell of Barnes’ face. “What, fixing cars?”

“Yeah,” Tony grumbled, “What else?”

Barnes was suspiciously quiet after that, and it was setting Tony on edge more than his trolling had.

Finally, Tony became fed up with Barnes staring at him, and snapped as they reached the top of the stairs.

“What? Do I got something on my face?” Tony demanded.

“Nah, it’s just…” Barnes frowned. “I forget you actually build and design things.”

Tony gazed at Barnes for a long moment, before catching himself, and rolling his eyes. “Yeah, that was the whole dilemma, remember?” he said, “I made the weapon that injured you. Had I known that the consequences were me carrying your groceries…”

Barnes’ gave him a sour look before throwing his door open. “Leave the bags by the door, I’ll take them from here,” he snapped.

“Sure you don’t need me to unpack ‘em too…?”

The door slammed in his face. 

Christ, did Barnes have a temper on him. How the hell had Tony managed to find himself in this mess?

-*-

It was after a few days that Tony assigned himself a break from doing Bucky’s chores. He wasn’t getting paid – and it was the weekend. He would’ve texted Barnes, but Tony didn’t know the likelihood of Barnes responding to an unknown number since they hadn’t shared credentials.

Of course, Tony went to the garage, but he’d been sneaking tools back up to his apartment for a few days now, so he wasn’t as insatiable anymore in toying around with tech.

But Sunday morning Tony felt the need to get his hands dirty underneath a engine, and the guys at the garage didn’t mind his help either way.

He got lost in it – machines always appealed to him than the rest of reality. The mechanics of it just clicked in his mind, like maths. It made sense to him.

It was only when someone dragged him out from under the car by his ankle had he realised how much time had passed. It was early afternoon already.

“We’re closing ‘shop early today,” the owner announced, his eyebrow raised at Tony exasperatedly. “You should get going too.”

“Can’t convince you otherwise?” Tony asked.

“Hank, I know you like doing this, but you work your ass off. _Go home_.”

With those orders, Tony left. He didn’t want to tell the garage guys he didn’t have food at home or money on him. And the chances of him going back out after he’d arrived were slim to none.

He had just put the code in for the door when someone stuck their foot in the doorway to stop it from closing.

Tony’s head snapped up, his focus sharpening, until he realised who it was.

“Barnes,” Tony hissed.

“Hank,” Barnes retorted, raising a cynical eyebrow. “You forgotten our deal?”

Tony didn’t answer, just jerking his chin at the side-walk where people were walking and turning to walk up the stairs. Couldn’t have them reveal anything publicly.

Barnes took the message and followed Tony up.

“Believe it or not,” Tony began, as they entered his apartment, “I totally remembered the deal. I was just taking a break.”

“A break?” Barnes scoffed.

Tony hummed, making his way over the bank of computers that was pushed into the far-left corner of the apartment, out of sight from the windows. He brought up the research he’d been gathered over the last day.

“What’s that?” Barnes asked curiously, seemingly forgetting what he’d come to bother Tony about.

“Been looking into who stole my weapons,” Tony answered honestly, re-focusing on the screen.

“You…have?” Barnes demanded, sounding choked.

He probably hadn’t expected Tony to want anything to do with it. People always assumed he was less accountable than he was. The joke was on them – Tony faced his issues head on.

Mostly.

“Yeah,” Tony answered breezily, “I’ve narrowed it down to a former employee of Stark Industries.”

And that could only mean one person.

He’d been Tony’s mentor for the longest time, a friend of the family, and later, after his parents’ death, he’d been Tony’s supporter in every aspect of his life. But not too long ago they’d become distant, their ideals clashing at every turn, so Tony saw to it that Obadiah had less oversight of the company. He didn’t need Obi as a mentor anymore, and he’d had plenty of support from Pepper as his assistant, and Rhodey as the military liaison. The three of them had made a great team.

Tony was surprised he hadn’t seen it coming. Obadiah hadn’t acted very well at the prospect of being kicked out, with the fraud and all, and Tony was ashamed to admit it’d been too good to be true when Obi seemed to have accepted the loss. Obi liked getting his way.

Yet it still hurt when the prints Tony had been dusting had led to him – not that Tony would ever admit it. Obadiah still had some say in the company, despite Tony leaving it at Pepper’s disposal. Stane could be finding loopholes to weasel his way back to the top and stop SI from shutting down. Tony had to be careful about putting Stane back in his place.

A darker part of Tony also wanted revenge. He wanted to make sure Stane could never be able to hurt anybody again, and if Tony could destroy his status…that could happen.

He’d been sitting their thinking for long enough to realise that Barnes hadn’t responded. Tony turned around to find the man in question gazing at him.

“What are you looking at?” Tony asked, with admittedly less of a bite than usual.

“I feel guilty,” Barnes told him, “You’ve been making way on something that concerns me whilst I’ve been making you play goose.”

That hadn’t been what Tony expected. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, shrugging a shoulder up. “Well…I deserved it.”

Barnes tilted his head. “Not as much as I thought you did.”

Tony wondered if that was a compliment. He decided it was, and quirked his lips in the beginnings of a smile.

-*-

With their quarrel put behind them, the two detectives got into work.

“What I’m not getting,” Tony admitted, after they’d spent a long day chasing leads, “Is how this hadn’t been considered before? You weren’t the only soldier in the attack to see it was my weapon.”

Barnes collapsed on the couch beside him, handing Tony a beer which he accepted gratefully. There was a contemplative crinkle between Barnes’ brows.

“Maybe Stane was trying to frame you,” Barnes suggested, his lips turned downwards. He took a sip from his own bottle so Tony followed suit, confident it wasn’t spiked (sure, they had put the past behind them, but Tony still had his doubts).

“This is a fucking four-by-four painting with the amount of framing that’s going on,” Tony complained, gulping down a huge mouthful of liquor.

“I’ll toast to that,” Barnes agreed with a laugh, lifting his drink to tap it against Tony’s with a clink.

Tony settled back against the couch, staring into space and taking a sip occasionally.

“Figured out how we’re going to approach this yet?” Barnes asked after a while of companionable silence.

Tony sighed, dropping his chin against his chest. “Right now, my plan is for you to walk up to the feds and do it yourself.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s not suspicious,” Barnes drawled sarcastically.

Tony waved his beer dismissively. “We’ll figure it out when we’ve got more information.”

Barnes grumbled something into his bottle that sounded suspiciously like “Should’ve never hired you” to which Tony shoved at his arm.

But Barnes was right. Any two of them reporting what they’d found was suspicious. Sure, Barnes was injured by Tony’s weapon, but that’d been dismissed by Rumlow already, and there was no way he could tell who’d arranged Tony’s death without turning himself in too.

If worst came to worst, Tony would try to eliminate Stane from afar, to ensure Pepper would become CEO and Stane would lose his status and become a nobody. That would be difficult too, but better than turning a semi-innocent guy who’d been caught in the crossfire of Tony’s life dramas being jailed.

Tony shuddered comically, making a theatrical noise of disgust.

“What?” Barnes asked, sounding amused.

“I just had a self-sacrificing thought about you,” Tony confessed.

“What?” Bucky gasped dramatically, holding the beer bottle to his chest.

Tony pointed his bottle accusingly, like a weapon. “You tell anyone, Barnes, and I’ll make sure you won’t be around to see the consequences.”

“Alright, alright!” Barnes held his arm up in surrender, relaxing back onto the couch. His face however remained highly amused. “You can call me James, you know. Think we’d be on first name basis by now.”

“Well, let me think.” Tony put his finger on his lip thoughtfully. “You were involved in the scheme of my demise, you slammed me against your door when we first met, and we had _scandalous_ revelations moments after, for us to agree that I’ll be your bitch – don’t even deny that’s what happened – then when I didn’t come, you followed me home…”

“Jesus, when you say it like that-” Barnes began, grimacing.

“MMHMM,” Tony hummed.

The evening went much like that, with playful conversation simmering between them as the alcohol burned their wits to nothing, and _James_ managed to get Tony conceding to calling him by his first name.

They’d drunk enough that Tony could convince Barnes to stay on his couch.

“This is fucked, Tony,” James told him, reclining back until he was fully laid down on the sofa. Tony barely just escaped before being crushed. “I was gonna kill you.”

“No, you weren’t,” Tony responded, “But even if you had, you couldn’t, remember? I faked my own death.”

“Sneaky bastard. I better not wake up to a cushion being held over my face.”

“Could say the same to you,” Tony shot back, retreating to his bedroom.

“Tony,” James said softly making Tony pause. “I never asked, ‘cause I was too caught up worrying about…well…but why did you fake your death?”

Tony bit back the vague response that almost slipped out. He’d been afraid Barnes would ask that.

“You sure you want to hear about me spoiled rich kid problems?” Tony joked weakly.

“If your life was bothering you that much before to make you fake your own death, then yeah, I do,” Barnes retorted.

Tony leant against the dining table.

“I never really had a choice,” Tony explained, “My life spiralled out of my own control even before I graduated, and I couldn’t see it ending. So, I made a choice.”

“But even now, you’re still involved in your former life,” Barnes reminded pointedly.

“I thought I could leave it behind,” Tony admitted tiredly, “But meeting you…I know I have to be accountable for what I did. I didn’t choose to sell weapons to terrorists, but that doesn’t mean I’m not responsible. I can’t let my legacy reflect cowardice.”

“Jesus, Tony,” Barnes muttered. “You always think that philosophically?”

“Haunts me every minute,” Tony said easily, “But, and I’m just guessing here, I’m probably not the only one like that.”

Barnes sighed, not denying it. “I’m too drunk to be having this conversation.”

Tony chuckled, and then called it a night.

When Tony woke, his head was pounding, and the light shining in through the window wasn’t doing him favours. He scrambled out of bed into the kitchenette seeking a glass of water. Unfortunately, his eyes were closed to block out the suns brightness, and he had trouble navigating his way.

He knew the layout of the apartment relatively well, but he’d left objects scattered across the floor. And kept bumping into tools and stubbing his toes. “Shit,” he cursed.

He opened his eyes to a squint to make sure there was nothing else in his way, then made the rest of the way into the kitchen.

But the noises he’d made must’ve been closer to a racket because the next step he took he collided with a surprisingly solid wall of flesh.

Tony stumbled back with a groan, bending over. Christ, being winded was uncomfortable. He squinted at Barnes, who was using the wall for support.

“You poisoned me,” Tony accused.

“Was just about to say the same thing,” Barnes gritted out.

Tony took a deep breath and hobbled into the kitchenette, getting two glasses from the cupboard and filling them with tap water. He handed one to Barnes.

Barnes accepted it with a grunt watching Tony chug the water in one go then electing to take sips from his own glass.

Tony refilled his glass and brought it over to the computer bay.

“You’re really getting to work now?” Barnes demanded incredulously.

“No rest for the wicked,” Tony quipped, blinking as the screens lit up, making his headache worse.

“Haven’t even had anything to eat,” Barnes grumbled.

“Then go get something to eat,” Tony retorted. He didn’t get a reply, but a few minutes later he heard the door opening and then shutting. Huh, so Barnes had listened.

“Finally,” Tony muttered, relaxing into the chair. With Barnes breathing down his neck he felt like he had to spend every minute planning to take down Obadiah – not that he didn’t want to.

Twenty minutes into his semi-retirement, Tony heard a knock on his door and froze. He made his way to the door hesitantly, picking a spanner up along the way. His hand had almost reached the door knob when he heard a frustrated voice.

“Swear to god, _Hank_ ,” Barnes growled, “Open the damn door.”

Tony rolled his eyes, slipping the spanner into his back pocket and opening the door to reveal Barnes standing there with a plastic bag. A delicious scent was wafting from it.

“How did you get into the building?” Tony asked suspiciously, taking the plastic bag from Barnes and looking inside. “Did you buy…” Tony trailed off, “Chinese food for breakfast?”

“You’re lying if you say you’ve never done it,” Barnes declared, going into the kitchenette and coming back with plates and cutlery.

“Well, yeah,” Tony admitted, “But that was when it was left-over. I didn’t go out of my way to buy it for breakfast- “

“Details,” Barnes said dismissively, settling on the couch beside Tony in what was becoming his spot.

“And I saw you put the code in the other day,” Barnes said in response to Ton’s previous question. “Should be more careful,” he added with a sly grin.

Tony rolled his eyes. He supposed it didn’t really matter in the long run – if Barnes wanted him dead he had the resources to. Besides, Tony had breakfast. And now that he was becoming accustomed to Barnes presence, it was sort of nice having him there. The remaining doubts of being murdered in his sleep just kept things exciting.

Or so he told himself.


End file.
